Panoramic
by lowkeytho
Summary: Hermione considers herself a sane witch. There's absolutely no way she would forget an engagement, let alone her own, and with a prejudiced asshole like Malfoy. What in Merlin's name is the sodding bastard on about? She peeked up at him, and sure enough he was still chatting away about their 'wedding', and staring at her with that unstable twinkle in his eyes. AU. DARK.
1. Unstable

The order members were arranged by height, resembling a panoramic picture. Their lifeless corpses slowly decaying at the merciless feet of Lord Voldemort. She jerked her head from the surreal image that lay in front of her, up to the serpentine features of he-who-must-not-be-named. His face contorted in a smirk, and he raised his non-existent eyebrows almost daring her to speak. Opening her mouth to test her theory, panic shot through her. Her vocal chords weren't cooperating. Shutting her gaping jaw, she tried to shake the distressed feeling creeping up her spine when realizing she was utterly speechless. Trying to control her rapid intake of breath, Hermione Granger's eyes snapped to one body in particular. Her gaze frozen on the comatose face. Once full of determination, the unmistakable green eyes held an expression of vacancy. The last hope for the wizarding world was placed toward the beginning of the line. Whether on purpose or because he was never that tall, she could only guess. Squeezing her eyes shut, she prepared herself to join her friends and family. Horrible screeching laughter resembling the scream of a banshee echoed through the great hall.

Hermione mustered up whatever remained of her Gryffindor courage. She had to be strong for the order. Satisfied that she possibly reached her mental equilibrium, her momentary anxiety disappeared. Her eyes shot opened and an involuntary cry ripped through her throat as powerful arms engulfed her waist. A wand lightly skimmed over her collar bone and she frantically thrashed around in her captor's arms. Warm breath tickled her neck. Before slipping in to unconsciousness, she heard a throaty "Stupefy."

Hermione awoke in the Gryffindor common room. Unease poured through her. She wondered if this was some fucked up version of purgatory, her own personal hell. Surveying the familiar common room, her insides lurched. She had always thought of the Gryffindor common room as her light at the end of the tunnel. Clad in scarlet and gold, she used the room as an escape from reality. Lost in the memories she shared with the common room, she almost didn't notice the portrait of the fat lady open.

An overly cheerful voice said, "Hello love, I've missed you."

Hermione froze. That voice. It was all too familiar. Turning her head to confirm her suspicions of the intruder's identity, her eyes widened in shock. Pale skin on a 6'3 frame, along with grey eyes, and extremely blonde, almost white hair. His aristocratic features held his signature smirk.

She silently preyed for her voice to cooperate with her, and venomously replied, "Malfoy, always a pleasure."

He ran to her on the couch, and wrapped his arms around her. Her screams of protest were muffled by his chest.

Punching his back with her fists, she spoke as loudly as her limited oxygen supply would allow, "Get off me now, Ferret!" He didn't budge.

"Draco! Please I can't breathe!" He released her from his bone crushing embrace. Her strangled coughs made it difficult. to get her breathing under control. She wiped the tears from her eyes before clearing her throat. "What happened? Why am I here while the rest of the Order rots on display in the great hall?"

She felt a sting on her cheek, before she heard the echo of his hand connecting with her flesh.

She winced and glared at him. "Bastard! Tell me what the hell is happening or kill me, but I refuse to sit here and relive our Hogwarts days with you and Voldemort."

He momentarily flinched at the use of his Lord's name, and grabbed a fist full of her curls, forcing her to look at him.

When he spoke, his tone was void of any emotion. Hermione couldn't decide which she feared more: the overly cheerful Malfoy, or the Malfoy who speaks in monotone . "Now Hermione, that's no way to talk to your fiancé, however ill over look your tone and insolence because you've had an upsetting couple of days. I would really rather you call me Draco love, I'm certainly no bastard, and I adore how it sounds coming out of your lovely mouth." The insane glint in his eyes was evident to Hermione. She wondered if his sanity was just another of his many mental causalities curtsey of the Dark Lord. He held her lips together and muttered a wand less selencio, to stop her from interrupting him. His thumb slowly caressed her lips before wiping away her silent tears.

His eyes moved to her lips and he brought his own down to meet them. He was in heaven. Nibbling her lip between his teeth he easily ignored her hysterical sobs. Releasing her lips, her wiped away fresh tears and looked her in the eyes," Make no mistake of disrespecting me again Hermione, although I will put your mouth to use anyway, remember its up to you if it is pleasant or not." He paused to breathe in the sent of her hair, He smiled a smile worthy of Luna Lovegood, "You smell divine! Just as I always imagined," He frowned at her tears then quickly reminded himself they had to be tears of joy. He held her tighter, "Don't worry love, I promise you we won't separate. We're to be husband and wife in few weeks. Mother is so excited to help you find a dress-"

Hermione considers herself a sane witch. There's absolutely no way she would forget an engagement, let alone her own, and with a prejudiced asshole like Malfoy. What in Merlin's name is the sodding bastard on about? She peeked up at him, and sure enough he was still chatting away about their 'wedding', and staring at her with that unstable twinkle in his eyes.


	2. utopia

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey guys! thanks so much for reviewing! Keep them coming :) It gives me encouragement to write. **

**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing, that privilege belongs to J.K. Rowling.**

Due to his incessant talking Hermione zoned out. She wondered if Malfoy knew he was having a conversation with himself. Of course, the conversation itself was absurd! As a result of the selencio Malfoy had cast, she was unable to laugh, so she mentally snorted. It had to be some last cruel 'oh lets fuck with the Mudblood's mind before we kill her' type of thing. She just wanted to get it over with. The waiting was infinitely more terrifying then the dying, she was sure. Just one flash of green light and she's done. Silenced. Finished.

Would they Avada her? Voldemort and friends could kill her in ways she probably couldn't conjure up in her worst nightmares. Maybe Malfoy's attitude is the start in a torturous chain reaction all specifically designed to make her last moments unbearable. Hermione didn't want to think of the other option, that Malfoy was serious. Lost in thought, she hadn't noticed his face nuzzling her neck.

An unwelcome shiver ran through her, making her skin crawl. She knew this feeling. She felt it when she oblivated her parents, when Bellatrix tortured her in Malfoy Manor. Dread.

Lifting his face from the crook of her neck Malfoy sighed, "Would you like a bath?" Her eyes narrowed and she tore away from his grasp, falling next to the couch.

With out realizing Malfoy ended the selencio she screamed, "What are you playing at? No Absolutely Not! I don't want anything from you! You're insane! We're certainly not going to be married. Please stop with these games. Kill me and end it, let me join my side. You've won. Now go and built your apocalyptic 'utopia' and let me rest in peace." Tears fell freely down her cheeks and made the top of her torn tee-shirt damp.

Malfoy paled, a pained expression on his angelic face, " Hermione, Love, I'm sorry you feel that way," he regained composure his smirk sliding back on his lips, "But your part of this utopia. Darling, what did I say about disrespecting me," he gripped her throat and brought his lips to her ear, "especially in my own house," he released her throat, a livid expression contorted his features.

She coughed a few times before remembering, "This isn't your house, were in the Gryffindor commo-" She scanned the area, and sure enough, they were in the dining room of Malfoy Manor. Paintings aligned the walls with plush rugs and Persian carpets. Fine china littered the mahogany table, which must have been the length of a muggle tour bus.

Her eyes widened as she saw the couple eating brunch on the opposite end. Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy were carefully engrossed in their own world, and paid little attention to the altercation at their table.

Malfoy's smirk grew, "Love, I'll get you some calming drought and you can rest, but there will be punishment later." Malfoy stared at the confused sacred eyes of his little witch. The light in his darkness. Of course his parents didn't approve of a Mudblood, but enough convincing changed their minds. He proved to them that she was more than magically capable, and she would make a fine addition to the family.

Trying to eliminate the quaking in her voice Hermione glared at Malfoy, "Ferret, your really off your rocker if you think I would ever marry you. You assisted Voldemort in slaughtering my friends! Besides I'm a Mudblood," she said the word and octave higher than normal and stared at his parents for a moment.

Malfoy's voice became dangerously low as he carefully stroked her arm, "That's the beauty of it love, you don't get a bloody choice! Your mine. Every fucking bit of you, and you can be sure I will indulge myself on my newest possession when were husband and wife, two weeks from now." His eyes wandered her body and she let out a pained sob.

A soft comforting voice rang from the other side of the large table, "Hermione dear, don't worry! Lucius was the same way with me, the Malfoy men act like there very tough, but inside there big softies! Tomorrow morning ill take you to look at dresses! All will be well."

Narcissa Malfoy was the picture of perfection, with a comforting voice. Hermione felt a twinge of hope enter her chest. She could convince Narcissa to help her! She would let her go!

Surveying the three Malfoy's at the table, she noticed the glint. That insane glint she recognized from the ferret's gaze. Tears blurred her vision at the realization that Narcissa wouldn't help her, and even if she did, where could Hermione go? There was nothing left for her. Her last thought before darkness claimed her: Lucius was silent.


	3. Necessary Roughness

**Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews guys! Keep them coming! I promise the next chapter will be longer.**

**Disclaimer: Sadly, I own nothing.**

Draco carried his passed out witch up to one of the many guestrooms in the manor. As he layed her small, delicate body, on the feather stuffed matress, he wondered why she continously passed out whenever they had a disagreement. Could she possibly be having second thoughts about their wedding? _No. Not possible_, he told himself.

Assuring his consience, he decided she was just nervous about his parents. He tried to make it as painless as possible for his little lion, modifing her memory when she awoke. He planned perfectly, choosing the Gryffindor common room, a place she always enjoyed.

The many wandless legimens' he performed on her revealed the griffndoor common room to be where his little witch was most volurnable. He knew everything about her. Her hopes, dreams, fears, he knew she still thought of the _weasel_.

Even in death, the red-haired abomination appeared in her thoughts. Draco made sure all her little friends were permanently out of the picture. The only person she would rely on would be him.

To say Draco is Jealous would be the understatement of the century, he would not rest until he became the only thought on her magnificent mind. He wanted to possess her, consume her, to the point where she couldn't preform the simplest tasks without thinking of him. He wanted her to feel what he had been feeling all those years at school.

She would love him, he would make her see she has no one else left. Doesn't she understand what he went through to persuade the Dark Lord to spare her life? No. Neumerous times she made it clear the wanted to join potty and the rest of the insufferable order. Not that Draco would ever reveal to her the lengths of which he went to save her life, let alone procure her hand in matrimony. He killed, tortured, and maimed for her.

Releasing a strangled sigh, he shut his eyes. He still heard the screams of the order echoing the great hall. The Dark Lord had forced him to commit haneous acts to save his beloved, going as far as introducing the hungarian boneless curse. The victems bones were ripped out of their sockets, and pulled through the flesh.

One limb at a time, Draco preformed the curse on a little over half of the order. Tears gathered at the corner of his eyes, as he vividly remembered the grotesque image of his godfather.

The Dark Lord had found out Snape was a traitor, and after preforming the bonless curse on him, he had hung his limbs like portraits lineing the walls of the great hall, his head resting on a spike.

Regaining control of his emotions, Draco forced the memory out and remembred why he participated: for his little griffindor. Yes, it was necessary roughness. Survival of the fittest, only the strong had survived.

The order was weak, unable to preform the simplest of the unforgiveables, the killing curse. They didn't understand that death was a companion to war. Victories never came without causalities.

Changing the direction of his frusterating thoughts he glanced down at his little sleeping lion. Merlin she's beautiful, _and all mine_, a firmilar voice whispered.

Smiling to himself, He silently agreed with the wisper in his head, his only friend since he started hogwarts. The voice always aided him when making decisions. He would never tell his parents about it, he'd made that decision second year when the voice started having violent obsessive thoughts. At first, the strange thoughts had given him an abnormal anxiety.

The moment Draco realized the obsessive thoughts revolved around Hermione, the anxiety ceased, and all was well.

He placed quick, loving kisses around his witches face, and thanked the companion in his head. Without his dear friend, he wouldn't have Hermione.


	4. Purge

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey guys! sorry it's been forever since I updated. This won't be a regular occurrence. Thanks so much for your kind reviews! Also, someone suggested I get a beta, what do you guys think? **

**By the way this chapter is a flashback, so let me know what you think!**

**DISCLAIMER: Unfortunately, J.K. Rowling owns everything. **

Draco was restless. His sleeping pattern had been strange that night. While tossing and turning in his non-existent slumber, his mind continuously wandered to one night in particular; the night he killed Dumbledore. _The old fool had it coming_, said his mental companion.

Draco didn't disagree, in fact he had never heard a more accurate statement. It wasn't the death of Dumbledore that haunted his mind, it was the event taking place exactly three hours before:

_"Drake, are you all set for tonight?" Pansy Parkinson had cornered him. He scowled at her pug face. Her squished features had always bothered him, especially when his parents had almost set up a marriage contract. Draco just about blew a bloody gasket with that one. Lost in thought, Draco didn't answer her. Attempting to coax a response, pansy lightly ran her spindly long fingers lightly over Draco's shoulder._

_He shuddered. Disgusted, he ripped her hand from his shoulder,"Sod off Parkinson, I've got it under control." Before she could reply, Draco shuffled away from her, intending to retire to the common room. His feet sub-consciously led him toward the library. Walking through the entrance, he noticed it was completely empty. The only sound in the otherwise silent library was the periodic turing of pages from the far corner, hidden behind the towering shelves. _

_He knew this secret spot well. A smile stretched over his features. His little lion always studied in this spot. It's her favorite place in the library. Madame Price, the librarian, never checked this area; even after curfew. He disillusioned himself before heading over to the corner. _

_He carefully slid in to the seat across from his witch. Her hair was as wild as ever, and her face was concealed by a large novel titled; Dark Curses and their functions__,__ by Ignotus Pavrell. Draco smirked; his witch must have a dark side. With that thought, his pants became uncomfortably tight. Hermione gasped at something she must have read in the book, and Draco growled. _

_Her head shot up from her book. Eyes narrowed in to slits worthy of the Dark Lord, she whipped out her wand, "Hominum Revellio." Immediately, his aristocratic form materialized across from her. _

_Her eyes became giant saucers, "Malfoy, what in Merlin's name are you doing?" Draco couldn't take his eyes off her. He had never seen anything as beautiful as his little Gryffindor. "Malfoy? Hello? Answer me you git," She said in a much louder voice. _

_Draco could tell his lack of response was making her nervous. He smirked, and instead of answering her question, he moved closer, to the vacated chair directly beside her. He noticed her trying to gather her things to leave, but she stopped when his wandless restraints wrapped around her wrists and ankles, attaching her to the chair. _

_"Malfoy, release me or I'll hex you to the next century," her strangled, guttural voice, sounded like music to him. "Love, I'm not sure how you plan to hex me without a wand, but I'll certainly give you points for trying, besides I'm a prefect, it's my job to detain naughty little witches who are supposed to be in their common rooms," he answered in an extremely light silky voice that made Hermione's skin crawl. _

_She glanced down and noticed her formerly absent wand spinning around the fingers on his Left hand. Her eyes narrowed, "Ferret, what are you playing at? Give me my wand and let me go. It's after curfew and Madame Price will be around any minute, you would loose your prefect badge if she caught you," Her voice gained it's normal superior formality back,"It's against school rules for prefects to enforce any type of punishment besides taking away house points," Draco decided her Know-it-all voice was a major turn on._

_He inched closer to her, letting out a groan,"Granger, you have no idea what it does to me when you talk like your my superior, it's like role play darling, cause normally, it's the other way around." His mouth was centimeters from her face. She leaned as far away from him as possible. Realizing she couldn't strain her neck anymore, she locked eyes with him, forming a panicked gaze. Taking advantaged of her petrified state, he licked the side of her face, stopping for a moment at her earlobe to nibble on it. _

_"Malfoy! You're disgusting, get your vile mouth away from me!" She thrashed around trying to loosen the two tight restraints. The satisfied smirk dropped from his angelic face. He brought his hand to her throat and wrapped his fingers around it. _

_Dropping her wand on the floor, he caressed the side of her cheek with his other hand. The fingers around her throat got tighter as he brought his lips to her ear, "Now love, I know you don't mean that. I wish you would stop playing with my emotions. I watch you, I have since second year," Hermione's eyes widened as she choked greedily on every ounce of air that flew through her nostrils. Draco continued," I think you like to tease me, don't you?" _

_The familiar burning sensation on Draco's left arm forced him to release his witch. She let out an earth shattering scream. Draco needed to act quickly. He didn't want his witch anywhere near the astronomy tower. _

_He muttered a quick, "Imperio." Her struggling ceased, and her face held a blank expression._

_"Listen to me Hermione," he paused, she nodded with recognition and he continued, "under no circumstances are you to go anywhere near the Astronomy Tower this evening. You are to spend the night right where you are. Tomorrow morning when you hear of the unfortunate news, you'll be upset that you couldn't help in anyway. Also, once I'm out of your sight, forget our time together," he cringed at his necessary words," I'll come for you soon love, count on it," he placed a gentle kiss on her lips and disappeared toward the Astronomy Tower. _

_The burning became unbearable. His lord was calling. _

Draco snapped out of his memories, he hadn't realized he was panting. Covered in sweat, he made his way to the bathroom, in need of a shower before seeing his lioness.


	5. Controversy

**Author's Note: Hope you guys have as much reading it as I did writing it :) Thanks for the reviews! They always put a smile on my face**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

She may contain the urge to run away

But hold her down with soggy clothes and breezeblocks

"Breezeblocks" ALT-J

Hermione tried the door first. Unsecsessfull in her attempt, she returned to her spot on the ridiculously large bed, feet dangeling off the side. She knew the door would be locked, warded as well, though she currently did not possess a wand.

A miniscule twinge of hope forced her to twist the fucking doorknob. She mentally slapped herself. Hope did not exist in this nightmare. Hope died along with Harry, Ron, and the rest of the light. Hope decayed in the great hall, hanging with the countless bodies displayed for Voldemort's pleasure. The sick bastard probably got off on it.

There is always a price for the giddy feeling of hope. Hope contrives disappointment. Its almost a prerequisite. One always feels hope before disappointment. When hope is tarnished, the aftermath of disappointment increases tenfold.

The loud pop of apparition forced Hermione out of her thoughts. A little elf dressed in a maid's uniform stood next to the impenetrable doorway. The elf bowed and spoke in an disgustingly cheerful voice, "Oh! Miss wakes! Master's to be so pleased! Master loves miss very much, yes, Winky knows. Winky's to tell Master that Miss wakes-"

Hermione abruptly cut the little elf off, "Winky, Please don't tell Malfoy I'm awake. I have no desire to see him, nor do I reciprocate his feelings." Hermione attempted a friendly smile toward the elf, but all that became of her familiar frown was a straight face.

Winky backed a few steps away from Hermione. The little elf's voice lost it's cheerful tone, "Miss is confused. master said Miss would be like this. Winky didn't believe it! Master loves Miss! Winky knows Miss loves master. I goes to gets him now!" The elf disappeared.

Hermione was perplexed. Malfoy's clearly delusional. Why don't his parents see it? It could possibly be a hereditary malfunction. Perhaps each generation of Malfoys became plagued with a mental illness?

Not surprising, considering all the inbreeding the purebloods were into. It had to catch up with them eventually.

The steady sound of footsteps compelled Hermione to unconciously scoot across the bed, away from the door.

Realizing she was still too close, she shimmied down the oppisite side of the feather-stuffed matress, and procured a hiding spot between the bed and nightstand. As the footstepts approached the door, a single knock echoed the room.

The creak of the opened door caused Hermione's body to go rigid. Her throat became unnaturaly dry, and she brought her hand up to her mouth to control her stringent breathing. Malfoy's expensive dragon skin boots glided into the room. "Love, You've upset my house elf," his cataclysmic voice rang.

Hermione clenched her eyes shut, willing her body to remain silent as the surreptitious footstepts closed in on her. She would not look at him. She couldn't. He represented the monstrosity that destroyed everything she loved.

She flinched when his cold fingers tilted her face up.

Desperately trying to yank her face from his grip, Hermione released a strangled sob as his fingers tightened around her jaw . She clawed at his knuckles, hoping to draw blood.

Malfoy cursed and wandlessly bound her hands behind her back, while tightening his grip on her jaw.

Hermione was disgusted. From this angle she had a perfact view of his vile tatoo. Gathering as much saliva in her mouth as possible, she attempted to force her lips far enough apart to spit on Malfoy's face.

Her attempt was futile, she only managed to form a trail of spit starting from her bottom lip to her chin. Malfoy smiled, staring at her recent retaliation, seemingly deep in thought. Hermione winced when his free hand came around the back of her head, fisting her curls and rendering any facial movement immobile.

Inching closer to her face, his tongue grazed his lips. Hermione panicked when she couldn't move away from his offending expression. He ran his tongue from her chin to her bottom lip, collecting the trail of saliva that missed it's intended target.

Satisfied he procured every last drop, he moved to her lips, forcing his tongure between them. Hermoine gagged, choking on the surreptitious muscle. Despreate to remove the unscrupulous object, she bit the tip of his tongue.

He vacated her mouth immediately. Hermione smiled triumphantly.

Malfoy's voice became dangerously low, his grip on her hair becoming painfully tight, "Sweetheart, you really shouldn't have done that."

Hermione's smile grew, "Fuck off malfoy. Stop calling me pet names, you have no right! I'd rather cut off my own tongue then have yours rubbing up against it. Merlin, you're disgusting!" Malfoy's face held a balnk expression, almost serene.

He sighed before reaching in his pocket for his wand. Hermione's smile disappeared when she felt the firmilar stap of malfoy's wand in her throat.

His face held an insidous smirk as he wispered in an extreamly calm voice, "Darling, why do you persist to test me? Do you enjoy making me angry? I think you wan't me to be rough with you," he caressed her collar bone lightly with his wand, "you crave it. I can see I've been far too lenient with you. Love, I beleive you deserve a punishement. Petrificus Totalus."

Draco's little witch froze in his arms. He loved it when she was like this; completely dependent on him for support. He carried her to his room across the hall, and quickly locked and warded it.

Carefully setting her on his bed, he thought of his little lions attitude toward him. She knows he has a temper! Why does she continue to push him? She's certianly not his superior. Even in school she would best him in every subject. Draco contimplated the reasons he needed his witch.

His mental friend couldn't resist speaking up, _She's agressive and she questions your authority. You have the urge to assert your dominance._

Draco knew it went deeper than that. He's obsessed with the little gryffindor. He stared at her features, memorizing every mark on her beautiful body. Draco marvled at his luck. She belongs to him.

He smirked and ran his fingers over her petrified body possessively. He weighed his options; if he took her before marriage, the consequences could be catastrophic. Mostly his mother scolding him, but also he would be unable to bond her to him, assuming her virginity is currently intact. There is nothing more powerful than blood magic.

He gripped his wand tighter at the thought of that disgusting blood tratior inside his lioness.

Unable to find a solution, Draco's consince stepped in, _there's always a way to find out, she'll never know, she's out cold_. His gaze locked on his sleeping witch's jeans, a smile twisting on his face.

He moved his fingers to the waist band of her jeans, stopping to caress her stomach. He admired the texture of her skin. Hermoine had the most delicate skin he had ever touched. Traveling a centimeter south, he undid the button, and solicitously pulled her zipper.

Tugging the offending clothing down her hips, he ran his hands over her thighs and squeezed. Draco loved her legs.

Trailing his hands under her knickers, his breath hitched. She is perfact. He held his breath as his finger struggled to slip in her folds. She is so tiny. A shiver ran through him. He would split her in half when the time came.

A colossal grin stretched across his face when he encountered a barrier. His little witch had never bedded anyone! He would be her first and only. Noticing the tightness in his trousers, he buttoned her pants and headed to his bathroom. He had a hard on to get rid of and punishment for his lioness to think of.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Narcissa Malfoy hesitantly approached the great hall's massive oak entrance, an elaborate wedding invitation in hand . Cursing her husband for requesting this of her, she sighed. Of course, the thought of the Dark Lord attending her little dragon's ceremony unsettled her.

Lucius had not supported Draco when he came them to them the summer before he murdered Hogwart's former headmaster. A sharp pain erupted through her chest at the thought of her little baby loving someone so impure; someone lower than dirt. In the beginning, she had thought Draco was jesting, surely he had to be. Naturally, she had overlooked his insolence, remembering what her late father had always said: In wartime, one always needed a good joke.

Draco had spent weeks attempting to gain his parents favor in courting the unworthy vermin, but one day in particular; the day Draco left for what would be his final year at Hogwarts, forced Narcissa to see his seriousness:

_Draco shook his father's hand and nodded curtly, "Father, I look forward to seeing you at Christmas."_

_Lucius smiled at his son, his voice lowering to a businesslike tone, "Draco, I trust you've taken all the necessary precautions to ensure your task is taken care of, yes?" Draco's ghost of a smile disappeared._

_He looked his father in the eyes, replying in monotone, "Of course father, I won't fail him." Lucius smirked. Narcissa's pale face drained of what little color was left._

_Her husband and Draco were not aware of her knowledge pertaining to her son's task. No doubt, she was terrified for her only child. How could Draco be expected to survive this task? Dumbledore is more than a competent wizard, surely the dark lord wouldn't expect Draco to follow through? For Merlin's sake, he's only a boy._

_She let the tears freely drip down her face, letting out a sob reminiscent of a wailing hippogriff. Her husband glared at her, and would most definately scold her for having a breakdown in such a public place, but Narcissa would deal with that later. Presently, all she cared about was her little baby. Pushing her husband out of the way, she immediately engulfed her only son into a tight hug, smothering him with kisses._

_Narcissa didn't like how her son and husband were always so formal in public, when every other family around them showed affection toward their loved ones. Ignoring the glare from her husband, she continued to assult Draco with kisses._

_Draco half way retured her hug, and Narcissa was immensly stated. Normally, Draco woud probably join Lucius and glare at her. Releasing her son from her death grip, Narcissa wondered why his views on affection chaged so suddenly. Did he know of her unbreakable vow with Snape?_

_Was Draco suddenly returning her embrace because he too did not believe he would succeced? Her husbands voice forced her out of her internal questions._

_"Watch where you're going! Filthy Mudblood! It's disgusting how they allow you to exhist. How dare you touch me, vermin. You're fortounate I can afford new robes, because I'll be burning these," he said with a sneer as he gestured to his robes. He kicked the mudbloods trunk, forcing her possessions to scatter the train station, along with a very angy looking orange cat who was previously perched on top of ther trunk._

_Narcissa was speechless as she released Draco from her bone cruching hug and stared at the mudblood. She felt ashamed of her husbands behvior._

_By no means was Narcissa tolerant of mudbloods. She preferred to pretend they weren't there. More along the lines of an itch you can never scratch, but are aware of, although it can be forgotten at times. She snorted to herself at the notion of her husband thinking her behaviour to be emberessing: she was seeing their son off, he was using duragatory language toward potter's mudblood._

_Narcissa felt bad for the Granger girl, she was biting her lip, attempting to hold her glare at Lucius, but her face only looked as if she was holding back tears. Narcissa let out a gasp when Draco rushed over to her, and had all her belongings neatly re-packed in her trunk with a wave of his wand._

_Noticing the cat had landed across the platofom, Draco sprinted to retrive it. Looking over at Lucius, Narcissa saw him in the same state as she was: awe. They had never seen Draco do something so selfless, for a mudblood no less; espicially in font of herself and Lucius._

_Draco approached the shocked mudblood; cat in hand. His voice held nothing but compassion and genuine concern as he said, "Granger, I believe this charming animal belongs to you." Narcissa noticed her son's smile wasn't forced._

_The girl seemed to have trouble finding the words to say to Draco, whether out of emberessment or fear, Narcissa was unsure._

_"I,uh... well, that is...um...yes," she managed to choke out a stutter, before glaring at Lucius and sneering, "I see all the inbreeding has made you mental," She took a long breath, levitated her trunk, and grabbed her infernal cat out of Draco's arms before muttering, "Thanks Malfoy."_

_As the girl walked toward the train, Narcissa watched her son. His eyes remained on the mudblood until she made it safely aboard the train. Draco visibly let out a sigh of relief. Narcissa felt unease toward Draco's behavior, and unsure of it's cause. Draco glared at his father before turning to Narcissa; his eyes held a pleading expression._

_She was absolutely sure of one thing: Draco had been serious. The way he looked at the girl was unmistakeable. She had never seen expression in her son's eyes._

_Narcissa knew he wanted her accecptance, and she was ready to give it. She would be tolerant of Draco's emotions, no matter how they clashed with her own._

_He's her little dragon; her only child. If he loves the mudblood, Narcissa would do everything in her power to aquire the girl for Draco._

_She looked in to his eyes and smiled knowingly, "Dragon, remember, Malfoy's always get what they want. I'll see you at Christmas."_

_Her son beamed at her, maintaining his smile until he reached the slytherin compartment on the Hogwarts express._

_Narcissa glanced at her fuming husband, "Come my darling, let us discuss this at home."_

_She grabbed a reluctant Lucius's sleve and pulled him toward the apparation point. The Hogwarts express Whisteled loudly, signaling the ten-minute warning until the train departed._

Still slightly dazed from her memories, Narcissa knocked once on the large oak entrance. Expecting a lesser ranked death eater to appear, Narcissa choked on her most recent breath when the Dark Lord himself appeared infront of her.

Narcissa struggled to keep from shuddering at the Dark Lord's appearence. His translucent skin stretched around his unnatural serpentine features. Blood-red eyes scanned her through cat- like slits, as his hairless eyebrows raised. His face held a sinister smile, while his signature black robes were dragged along the floor as he approached her.

She bowed before looking him in the eyes, and said in a neutral voice, "My Lord, I am sorry to bother you. My husband's asked me to deliver this invitation to our son's wedding, it's to take place the week after next, should your lordship have no objections toward it." Her breathing was uneaven, causing little beads of sweat to break out on her forehead.

The Dark Lord stared at her for a few more seconds before breaking eye contact with her, his voice resembling a forced hiss,"My dear Narcissa, I assure you I am all for this union of your son and Potter's mudblood," Narcissa flinched as his high pitched laugh echoed through the halls,"In my opinion, we all need a good laugh," his laughter came out in screeches as the dark lord started walking the oppisite direction before stalling his laughter long enough to hiss, "You're dissmissed."

Again, Narcissa was reminded of her father's saying, instantly she knew she had forgotten to have her occulmency sheilds up.

She stared at the direction her lord departed, and quickly found the nearest floo, mantally slapping herself for appearing so vulnerable infront of her lord. Hopefully her son's mudblood was awake, she had to get the girl a dress.

She grabbed a had full of floo powder, and shouted in a clear voice, "Malfoy Manner!"


End file.
